Sirius Black: Musical Genius
by DolbyDigital
Summary: Sirius' passive agressive piano playing skills OR Sirius tries everything to get out of his piano lessons


**A/N —** Thanks to Carmen for the help getting started

* * *

Sirius sat, fuming, on the sofa as his mother gave him yet another lecture about the _proper_ way to behave. His father was no where to be seen, and his brother had been sent to bed already, Sirius only still awake to listen to his mother rant.

"— _never_ would have thought —"

And he hadn't even meant to do it, not this time; this time, it had been entirely accidental. After all, how could he _possibly_ have known that precise mixture of ingredients would cause such a _large_ explosion in his father's study?

"— we'll find a better use of your time —"

And he couldn't have — wait …

"What?" he asked, eyes focussing as he stared up at his mother in a mixture of confusion and alarm.

"Yes," she said, "something better suited …" She trailed off, thinking. Never a good sign.

"No, no," he said quickly. "That's quite alright. I can just … no dinner?"

"A hobby would do you good," she said, ignoring him entirely. "Something intel—" she looked at him critically "—something creative. That'll hold your attention."

"Mother, I really don't think —"

"Music, perhaps? Not particularly useful, but …"

.oOo.

The next day found Sirius seated in front of a brand new piano, instructor by his side. His mother worked fast, he'd give her that.

"Shall we start with scales?" the woman asked — Sirius hadn't quite caught her name; hadn't quite been paying attention. Sirius kept his hands in his lap, staring sullenly at the keys.

The woman laughed nervously, a high, grating sound, and said: "Why don't I start with a quick tune, then —" Sirius was beginning to doubt her credentials; she clearly didn't know how to work with people "— just to get us started."

The tune filled the air, echoing around the room. Perhaps this wasn't the worst thing that could have happened?

.oOo.

"What on _earth_ do you think you're doing?" Sirius jumped, and the music stopped abruptly. He turned to see Regulus, decked out in his winter pyjamas, standing in to doorway, absolutely furious.

"Practicing," he said simply.

"Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?" Regulus snapped.

"Yes."

Regulus floundered for a moment, then, with as much force as he could muster, asked: "Then, _why_?"

"Let your brother practice," their mother said, and this time Sirius wasn't the only one startled.

"But —" Regulus began.

"How else do you expect him to improve?" she asked.

"But I'm just banging the thing!" Sirius yelled, exasperated.

"We'll higher you a new tutor," she said. "This one's clearly useless."

Honestly, there was no winning with the woman.

.oOo.

The new instructor, somehow acquired and put to work in under five hours, was a lot worse.

"I think you should give an example first," Sirius said. "That's what my last teacher always did."

"No. You will show me what you know," the man said. Sirius was beginning to think he'd made a mistake.

"Well, see, that's the thing," Sirius began. "I'm just beginning, really, so I need to see how it's done."

"You will learn through doing."

 _Definitely_ a mistake.

.oOo.

"Aunt Walburga was saying you're quite the musical genius," Bellatrix said at dinner the next night.

"What are you even doing here?" Sirius muttered, glaring at his cousin.

"I'm _family_ ," she said, grinning with too much teeth. "Go on then. Play for us."

"The piano needs tuning," Walburga said, quickly putting an end to that matter.

Bellatrix huffed, but went back to her meal, leaving Sirius to wonder just _what_ exactly his mother was up to.

.oOo.

"Well?" Walburga asked, looking up at him from her seat in front of the piano.

"Well what?" Sirius asked warily, hovering in the doorway. "Where's the piano teacher."

"I'm teaching you today," Walburga said with a wide grin. She looked eerily like Bellatrix when she smiled, but Bellatrix could only ever dream of being this terrifying.

"Oh, no, that's alright Mother," Sirius rushed to say. "If my instructor's ill, I can —"

"I fired him," she said. "He wasn't very good."

"But … I — I thought you were getting the piano tuned?" he tried.

"Done," she said, as if it were a good thing. "They were quite fast, really."

Mistakes had _definitely_ been made.

.oOo.

"I hope you're proud," Orion snapped, sitting heavily next to Sirius at the piano.

"Maybe we should try this tomorrow?" Sirius suggested. "I heard you should never play piano angry."

"Never go to bed angry," Orion said, lifting the keylid. "Play the piano angry all you want. Might even be a good thing."

"How?" Sirius asked, but sat down despite his annoyance.

"Calming. Gets all your frustrations out."

…oOo…

Sirius' mother never knew, but he actually became quite proficient with the piano over the years.


End file.
